by E G Manetti
“Woodlands, what say you?” What new derangement is this?
Helena Faesetili, once Gariten, is Shade Ridden. Consecrated to Sinead Standingbear, the Fifth Warrior, Helena has been a seer of visions since shortly before her eldest daughter’s birth. As such, Helena is unrestricted by protocol or canon except to extent necessary protect her or others from her. Beyond that, the Shades of the Five Warriors are to be allowed voice in whatever form it may take.
“Yes, woodland creatures,” Katleen confirms. “They begin to peep out around corners and from behind furniture.”
At her sister’s bewildered look, Katleen further explains, “Maman paints them on the walls of her chamber. They are quite nice.”
As with Katleen, Lilian is relieved her mother’s disordered wits have discovered a benign outlet. “Well at least we will have some decoration is this otherwise barren pile of rock and tile. I beg you, do not permit maman to spend all the market funds on pigments or we shall be eating air.”
“Oh no, the Shrine is providing the pigments,” Katleen hastens.
“The Shrine of Sinead Standingbear, here in the Garden Center?” The Fifth Warrior’s Shrine has accepted her mother’s care and provides a modest stipend to supplement the household’s limited funds. The Shrine has shown little interest in supporting anything not required to sustain life.
“Yes, the first creatures appeared on First Day. They were only drawings. When more appeared on Second Day, I sent to the Shrine,” Katleen explains, hesitation in her tone. Lilian does not care for visitors in the house. “The Keeper arrived to evaluate the sketches. She went to Maman and they spoke for some time. Afterwards, the Shrine sent the pigments. The acolyte said I should send to the Shrine when more are needful.”
“Well done. Do continue to provide the Shrine attendants every courtesy.” They will be under foot for sevendays now. Nonetheless, we owe them much.
The influence of Sinead’s Sect has been critical to the current, unprecedented arrangement. Lilian will not be ungrateful no matter how trying she finds the Keeper’s fascination with her mother’s demented ramblings.
“Quickly now, I must make haste. How fare you at the school?” Lilian probes. Her arrangements for Katleen’s education are unconventional.
With the family in disgrace, Katleen lost access to the schools of the Warrior Elite. Somewhat to her surprise, Lilian was able to secure a place for her sister at the Universal Way School located in the district. The Universalists eschew warrior values and hold to the vestiges of the enlightenment that preceded the Anarchy. Although the sect is viewed with suspicion by many citizens of the Twelve Systems, the school is respectable and the Scholars kind. They do not share warrior society’s disdain for the tainted sisters. Katleen is spared the cruelty and insult that she would endure at a Shrine or governor’s school.
“I find it strange, but everyone is kind and my studies go well. I was wondering if I might join the meditation instructions. I find I enjoy the poetry and music.” The meditation instructions are the training exercise in the Universal Way tenets. They disagree in many aspects with the strictures of the Warrior Discipline. The Scholars had agreed not require it of Katleen. The young girl needs no further confusion layered onto the radical changes in her life.
Contemplating her sister a moment, Lilian agrees, “I see no harm in it. Their tenets are unusual, but not without merit. If it pleases you, you should do it. Have you your slate? I will mark it so for the Master Scholar.”
With a quick hug for her sister, Lilian rises. “And now I must make haste. It will not serve to be late to the Cartel.”
»◊«
Lilian expected milord’s head of special investigations to match the classic image of an archivist. She envisioned a spindly figure with shoulders bowed from years bent over reviewers. Instead, Master Trevelyan is a tall, robust man of fifty plus years. His erect posture, precisely creased suit, close-cropped brown hair and sharp, no nonsense manner brings to mind the Militia not the Archives.
That Blooded Dagger contains a Master Associate Lilian’s research did not reveal is a tribute to Master Trevelyan’s abilities. Among the common orders, Master Associate is the highest level of cartel achievement. The financial rewards are comparable to those of the lower ranked seigneurs, as is the prestige. For one of the warrior class, it opens the opportunity to a seigneur’s signet.
The Master Associate is focused on his techno array. Politely and unexpectedly seated, Lilian considers her surroundings. Trevelyan’s office is pleasant and comfortable. It is similar in size and furnishing to Master Nickolas’. The techno group rivals milord’s.
Turning to Lilian, Trevelyan states, “Inform Monsignor Lucius I should have something on Simmons’ movements in a day or so. It may be longer to locate him. Breaching the security-privilege will prove difficult. It is likely to require a sevenday or two.
“When I have aught to report, I will send for you. Do not send inquiries asking for updates. As little as possible is to be passed through the communications systems.”
“Yes, Master Trevelyan. If Master Trevelyan pleases, might I be permitted to know how one breaches security-privilege?” Lilian does not hesitate to offer the courtesy of third person address to the spy. He has treated her graciously. She will do no less.
A predatory grin spreads across the spy’s face as he answers her, “Bribery, Mistress. I am about to expend a great deal of monsignor’s funds.”
Not Militia, free-trader.
Modern, governing protocols make minimal distinction between free-trader and pirate. Lilian considers the free-traders the last of the force that defeated the Anarchy. Three hundred years gone, the free-traders opened the Eleventh and Twelfth systems in a bid to break free of the rapidly consolidating control of the cartels. It was the final gasp of a dynamic culture that has begun to slumber into complacency and entropy.
Lilian owns no quarrel with the Cartels. Complacency is deeply dangerous. Lilian’s unconventional opinions were once encouraged. In her current state of disgrace, if voiced, they will result in a caning. None of her thoughts display on her reserved countenance.
»◊«
Lilian is aroused. Clad in naught but the dark rose lingerie dictated by milord, Lilian is nestled against milord's length. With one hand, milord uses his slate to send the complex operations of the Cartel scrolling across the reviewer. The other hand leisurely explores Lilian’s abdomen, ribs, breasts and shoulders.
Milord’s pleasure was fast and hard as Lilian stood braced against the back of the scarlet couch. Disoriented by the unfamiliar position Lilian was unable to achieve release. Expecting dismissal, Lilian found herself gathered onto the scarlet couch with milord while he reviews Cartel operations.
Attempting to ignore the demands of her heated sex and milord’s inquiring hand, Lilian focuses on the rapidly moving data views. For some reason, milord is concerned with the Vistrite Logistics and Supply network. A bottleneck? A drop in demand? It is not clear. Only that Vistrite is not moving through the supply network at its normal pace. Working the puzzle in her mind, Lilian’s concentration is broken by the hard warm hand that is delving between her thighs. In response, her thighs loosen and widen. The reviewer shutters as milord’s lips feather along her neck and shoulder.
Lucius sends two fingers into the hot wet cave of Lilian’s sex. Lilian whimpers and moves sinuously beneath his hands, her breath roughening. Good. She is almost ready. Lucius wants Lilian deeply aroused for what he has planned. Her hips and pelvis are writhing in response to his explorations. She is gazing at him, wide-eyed, uncertain of his expectations. Grasping one of her hands, Lucius places it against his erection.
Releasing milord’s burgeoning shaft from his trousers, Lilian tickles and strokes the rapidly stiffening member while milord continues his erotic assault against her inflamed center. His thumb works her jewel as hard fingers probe inside her. Wildly aroused, Lilian circles her hips, pressing against the probing fingers and tormenting thumb.
Milord flexes the fingers insider her causing her pelvis to contract. Involuntarily, Lilian’s hand on milord’s rod tightens, eliciting a rough sound of enjoyment. She is fascinated by the shape and texture of milord. Overwhelmed by the sensations generated by the clever fingers, Lilian moans as she arches against the exciting caress. She wishes milord would enter her.
“Lilian,” milord’s lips are close, his breath against hers as milord speaks, “mount me.”
Yes.
Shifting with milord, Lilian slides onto the erect shaft, clenching at the sensation of the hard drive up and into her. Arching and writhing, she finds the right spot and responds eagerly to the encouraging hands on her hips. Milord sets a rapid pace, thrusting hard. The tension that has been building for over half a period begins to crest and then breaks as Lilian shudders and convulses around the man inside her.
Milord is not finished. Turning Lilian onto her back, milord finds the angle and the rhythm that brings him release.
Lilian is mortified. She was too far along to slow when she realized that milord was not with her. Forcing her eyes to those of the man hard inside her, Lilian discovers only satisfaction in milord’s aspect. It matters not, she has done ill, “Milord, I beg,-”
“Peace,” milord interrupts her. “The timing in this is difficult. We will practice until you are able to manage.”
The promise in milord’s eyes and words cause Lilian to tighten around milord’s sex. Milord rumbles in pleasured response.
»◊«
Wrapped in residual afterglow, Lilian settles into the Archives. As she ignites her slate and the Archives console, Lilian clenches her legs in recall of midday. For five commerce days Lilian has departed milord’s domain relaxed and sated. You are a toy. It will not last. It is wondrous while it does. Savoring her languor, Lilian begins to work her assignment queue, grateful that the routine assignments leave her mind free to revisit milord’s attentions.
“Mistress Lilian, I require your assistance.” The cold demand startles Lilian from the Archives’ reviewer. Addressed by Monsignor Sebastian’s protégé, Lilian rises immediately, as she must when addressed by a senior in rank.
Tall, with a lean, well-muscled build, Master Martin Argon’s rugged features include hazel eyes and a cleft chin. The close-cropped brown hair sports a slender warrior’s braid that compliments skin of pale burnished copper. Handsome, wealthy and of impeccable bloodlines, Martin readily attracts women to his bed. That he prefers to torment the vulnerable is indication that his shade is no manner in keeping with his appearance.
“Come with me.” With the brief instruction, the warrior turns and exits knowing that Lilian must follow.
Carefully securing her slate in its satchel, Lilian follows the protégé to his office in the Grey Spear section of Serengeti. After milord, Monsignor Sebastian, Grey Spear Preeminence, is the most powerful warrior within the Cartel. Among the protégés, Martin is second only to Nickolas.
This is ill.
Master Martin is a leader among those who disdain her. In their few encounters, he has insulted and scorned her. Until Chrys’ and Rebecca’s revelations, Lilian had not known the identity of her tormentor. Milord will not react well to untoward contact with this man. Lilian’s unwilling participation will provide little mitigation.
I am the sum of my ancestors.
Master Martin’s office is a mirror of Master Nickolas’. The only difference is the use of the Grey Spear cobalt and bronze in the place of the Blooded Dagger scarlet and gold. Lilian is beyond grateful for the interior glass wall that completes the offices of the unranked.
Slouching into his desk chair, legs spread, the protégé’s expression holds sly excitement.
Five Warriors aid me.
With an anticipatory smile, Martin states, “I require assistance with several of Straus’ interrogatives.”
He cannot truly wish my aid? Even as she suspects the protégé’s purpose, Lilian politely agrees, “How may I assist?”
“I require the results, doxy. Open your slate and provide the results,” Martin demands impatiently.
“It is forbidden me by Master Straus,” Lilian replies. The uncomfortable interview with the Associate Master after the incident with the crow is proving valuable. Lilian cannot believe she has cause to be grateful for the dead bird. Without the Associate Master’s instruction, Lilian would be in difficulty. Of her own will, she dare not defy the protégé or malign his honor with the suggestion he would cheat.
“Monsignor Sebastian’s will supersedes Straus’ dictates,” the protégé asserts.
“Yes, Master Martin. Were the monsignor to so instruct, I would comply,” Lillian acknowledges. As a governing monsignor, Sebastian Mehta can override any training protocol he wishes.
“You defy monsignor’s authority in this?” The protégé’s voice sharpens and his face flushes with emerging anger.
“Were Master Martin to so claim, I would comply,” Lilian carefully dodges outright defiance. I am the sum of my ancestors.
“Well then, the results.” The instruction is impatient, bullying.
It is a trap. Martin has not claimed Monsignor Sebastian’s authority, only implied he might.
“I beg pardon, Master Martin. I am not certain I understand.” Polite. You may require the monitors. You are safe if he voices it. “Does Master Martin assert Monsignor Sebastian’s authority for the instruction that I provide the results to Master Straus’ interrogatives?”
“Foul doxy, leave me. I have no use for you.” The protégé’s rage promises no good for Lilian.
Chapter 6: Seventh Day
Set in the Plains of Dominion in the Central continent, Crevasse City is divided into four districts by two primary transit routes. Jonathan Avenue runs north to south along the western edge of the Garden Center, the massive parkland central to the city. At the southern end of the Garden Center, Jonathan Avenue is bisected by Metricelli Boulevard.
Taking its name from the expansive parkland in its southwestern corner, the Garden Center District is home to the Warrior Elite and the wealthiest of commoners also known as the secondary families. Directly south of the Garden Center District is the River Quarter. Bisected by the Denel River, sections predate the Anarchy.
West of the River Quarter are the clustered towers of the Commerce District, including Serengeti Headquarters. At the western edge of Commerce district, a mile south of the Refinery District, the source of the Great Crevasse is found. No more than a hundred yards wide at its source, the Great Crevasse runs northwest in an ever widening rift that reaches five miles before it begins to narrow again. Two hundred miles northwest of the Refinery Complex, the Great Crevasse terminates at the edge of the western hills, once again only few yards wide.
Sevenday 2, Day 7
The sun has barely cleared the horizon as Lilian races through the Garden Center enjoying the early morning cool. The verdant complex of meadows, water features and formal gardens is almost deserted. The few others present ignore the racing young woman. The one or two who recognize her are content to mark their disdain by moving away as she approaches.
It is a time of solace for Lilian. None expect her. There is naught required of her but the steady pace of her feet on the familiar pathways. Thoughts of Vistrite, the Cartel and milord tumble through Lilian’s mind.
Milord is so confusing. Harsh one moment and approving the next. Lilian never knows what she will encounter on the far side of the scarlet door. She knows milord’s moods often have naught to do with her. More importantly, he is not offended by her wayward enjoyment.
No falsehoods, Lilian berates herself. Not enjoyment, longing. There, this is the core of Lilian’s confusion. She longs for midday. She cannot wait to cross the scarlet threshold. For a few, all too brief moments, the trial of her existence disappears under milord’s touch.
It is completely unanticipated. It was not so before. Carnal congress was a pleasant enough activity. It never overwhelmed. Overwhelmed
. Lilian stumbles at that last. She is never overwhelmed. She is never confused. Control. She must control her emotions.
Useless. Worthless female. The cruel whisper slithers from the depths of Lilian’s psyche.
Adelaide’s thorn! Lilian mentally shrieks at the hated voice of her tormentor. You are dead and I am glad of it. Be gone.
I am the sum of my ancestors. Lilian calls her discipline to repress her emotions and sharpen her mind. Rounding the bend that will take her back to the entrance near her home, Lilian spies three men she would avoid. Five Warrior’s take it! Patrick!
Patrick Volsted is a tall, well-built and handsome young man with light brown hair that has pulled loose from his queue. His brown eyes are set in even, pale features now flushed with drink. He and his friends are returning from late night revels.
Maximillian Gomez is as stocky as Patrick is tall, the weight is all muscle. His broad face is set with black eyes, a wide nose and thick sensual lips ornamented with a carefully trimmed mustache and goatee. His shaven head gleams chestnut brown in the morning light.
Sven Hernandez’s athletic build tops Lilian by an inch. His narrow uneven features convey a charm that has served his insatiable interest in women since before his fifteenth year.
Judging her distance to the approaching trio, Lilian slows her pace and casts about for alternative routes. She is winded, but dressed to race and not the worse for a night of debauchery. There is no solid evidence. Lilian is convinced that this trio of elite warriors had a great deal to do with the vandalism of Katleen’s house.
The change in their stance from relaxation to menace is all the warning Lilian requires. They have recognized her. Vile insults are hurled at Lilian as the men rush forward, “It is Anarchy’s whore. The slut’s stench offends. Cowardly twist, you will learn your place. Foul doxy.”
Turning, Lilian races back down the path. Lilian has no illusions as to her fate should the pursuing men catch her. Rounding the bend again, Lilian is forced to slow and swerve to avoid a family group out for an early Shrine visit. With the loss of speed comes sharp pain as two thrown rocks strike her right shoulder and back. There are shouts from the family she passes. Rebuilding her speed, Lilian races for the nearest park entrance and the safety of the shops and cafes. The sound of cursing fades behind her.